Cry
Cry
Cry
See if I care.
I’m so numb now
All I can do is stare.
Stare at your face,
Cold and upset.
Why so upset?
Why
Why
Why

Back in the bad old days of my youth
When I found myself isolated and alone, unemployed... friendless
Had nothing to look forward to
And a body full of pains
I was sitting out in a back shed one day... despairing
How had things come to this I asked myself
And what could I do?
My life had really gone off the rails...
Now I had these two young pet cats 😺
They were my best friends and confidantes
While I'm sitting there... busy despairing
One of the cats comes in and jumps up onto my thigh and quietly just crouches down there
And closes his eyes
It's like he's saying "I'm with you in whatever you're going through, you're very important to me"
It interrupts all my despairing, I smile and think it's rather cute
And then... then the other cat appears, he comes in and he does the exact same thing
He jumps up onto my other thigh and crouches down there and closes his eyes
It's like they were saying "You belong to us, you're our best friend, we don't like to see you unhappy, we're here for you, we're with you in this"
I had to smile, even laugh to myself
I thought it was like God was sending me these animals to cheer me up
To tell me not to give up
That there was still hope in this world/ this life.

The two cats were tomcats
When one of them grew older he went wandering looking for a female probably (wasn't neutered)
He got killed on the road, knocked down
The other developed some kind of mange and would go around crying
In those days people were poor, they didn't spend money on animals
My Dad eventually got sick looking at him and hearing him cry
He threw him in a bag one day and doused him with water
Put some sticks and stones in it and threw him in the ditch (it was cold Winter time)
For the next couple of days and nights you could hear the poor animal crying
Until at last, there was silence
(It was like that scene from the Silence of the Lambs movie
When the young FBI agent recalls her childhood memory of hearing the screams of the lambs).

They were there for me but me, I wasn't there for them.

Salt filled orbs, refusing to fall.
Locked behind a dam, they silently call.
For release, for freedom, for sweet escape.
But they are held captive, in an unbreakable shape.

A hurting heart, a broken Soul
Feelings too deep, to ever be told.
Eyes that deceive, a smile that hides.
The pain that is within, forever resides.

The tears that don't fall, leave an endless ache.
A burning sensation, that no one can shake.
They swim in our eyes, but refuse to spill.
As we hold them back, against our will.

And I cried oceans
And I stood in your emotions
I think halfway through
I lost the notion;

Of what love is
As I felt the breeze
Of cold air and tulips
I paced through your mist.

And you're so empty
Don't love me gently
Leave me behind
Assume I'm blind.

Perfect doesn't exist,
I clenched my fist.
Prayed for God's call,
I know if I fall,
I gave it my all.

Children should not be left to cry alone.

They need someone beside them, even if it won't solve the problem. [Many problems cannot be solved.]

They need someone to stroke their hair and hold their hand,
to dry their tears and wipe their snotty noses.
They need someone to tell them it is going to be ok, even when it isn't going to be ok. [Especially when it isn't going to be ok.]

There is a little girl crying alone.

She does not muffle the sound of her crying. She wants her parents to hear.
She thinks that if they hear her crying, they will finally understand, and they will make everything alright.
Or maybe they will stroke her hair and hold her hand. [That would be alright.]

They don't come.

Maybe they can't hear her. Maybe they're busy. Maybe they didn't notice. [Maybe they don't care.]

They aren't coming.

The little girl's tears trickle off her cheeks,
making her pillow damp,
making her skin sticky with the salt. [She falls asleep.]

They don't come.

[There is a young woman crying in her childhood bedroom. Briefly, she worries about the embarrassment of her parents finding her here, crying like a little girl. They don't come. She laughs.]

Teardrop echoes; the tone of your skin drains away,
painting another picture of the night. Whistle-blowers of the night-
torchbearers of the day; kids fighting each other for tree turfs;
skipping stones at early morning ducks. But their mother
inside doesn’t have much time to duck his punch

Well domesticated dogs, too afraid to bark at the night’s
domestic violence. Dominated skin under the dominator’s tight
hands; the love of a shape-shifter— changing its skin to appear
loving for ten pairs of eyes; striking down with a false picture
of love- to the sight of six eyes. Like claws that sink into your
skin; he’s drunk again!

A day away from shelter; for a heaven that does exist from
one’s bruised knees. For all the hurt draped over troubled
shoulders, unfurled eyes crying silent tears bouncing off
the walls

                     A child in the next room hears the teardrop echoes